


I'm gonna love you (like I'm gonna lose you)

by Aeruthin



Series: Original Family Short Stories [9]
Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Art, Biting, Bottom Elijah Mikaelson, Brother/Brother Incest, Enabler Elijah Mikaelson, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, I guess this was inevitable, Incest, M/M, Marking, Nude Modeling, Oral Sex, Painting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Klaus Mikaelson, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Smut, Top Klaus Mikaelson, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeruthin/pseuds/Aeruthin
Summary: Klaus had meant it, his blessing of Rebekah's relationship with Marcel. He is not blind. She is happy, and after all these years, he finally believes she will remain so.Nevertheless, that did not make it easy.So who can truly blame him, if he holds on to his brother a bit more tightly?
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson/Klaus Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson/Rebekah Mikaelson (implied)
Series: Original Family Short Stories [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1475669
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	I'm gonna love you (like I'm gonna lose you)

With clenched jaw, Klaus forces the brush over the canvas. The colors bend to his will, the pattern emerges at his command. 

The brushes do not defy him. The canvas does not leave. They are bound to him, and no one can take them away.

He had meant it, his blessing of Rebekah's relationship with Marcel. He is not blind. She is happy, and after all these years, he finally believes she will remain so. 

Nevertheless, that did not make it easy.

So if his strokes quicken, and he is holding his brushes more tightly than strictly necessary, who can blame him?

He is observing his canvas, trying to decide on a next course of action, when the silence of the compound is interrupted by the soft clicks of his brother's shoes against the stone floor. 

Sure enough, moments later Elijah pushes the door open, a filled glass in his hand. He must have stopped by at his room first after leaving the party, because his tie is gone and the top buttons of his shirt are open.

"I knew I would find you here," Elijah says with a small smile.

Klaus shrugs and takes up a brush with orange paint. 

"Finally tired of the party, Brother?" he asks as Elijah makes himself comfortable on the couch. 

His brother hums and takes a sip of his drink.

"Your werewolf suitor was disappointed you left so early," he says.

Klaus huffs, mixing some red with blue next. While the werewolf queen was certainly gorgeous, he hadn't been in the mood for flirtations and courtship. Not after he saw Rebekah and Marcel sneak away. Secretly, as if they still believed he would stop them.

"You did well, Niklaus," Elijah says, as if reading his thoughts. "Our sister deserves to be happy. Her relation with Marcellus will grant her that."

Klaus turns around to apply the purple, but freezes in his tracks. 

The rays of the early morning sun shine in through the windows, illuminating Elijah as he lounges back on the couch, the brightness of his shirt standing in stark contrast with the dark of his hair and suit.

His gaze, focussed solely on Klaus, is filled with pride.

Abruptly, his throat clogged with undefinable emotions, Klaus throws his brushes on the table, earning him a slightly puzzled look from his brother.

He ignores it, and puts the current canvas on the floor, arms slightly shaking, only half his mind aware enough to keep the wet paint from ruining.

The new canvas is as white as Elijah shirt.

"Do not move," he orders sharply. 

Elijah raises an eyebrow.

"May I drink?" he inquires, amused.

Klaus nods stiffly, his hand already moving, putting down the basic shapes of his brother's head and shoulders, enlarging them so they fit on the canvas. Elijah's eyes slide close as he dozes in the morning sun, and Klaus cannot move fast enough to capture the imagine before him.

Still, something is missing. 

Klaus places the brush back on the rack, more carefully this time.

Elijah blinks up at him as he approaches, and shifts slightly in his seat.

"Don't move," Klaus repeats as he leans over him. Slowly, he trails his hand over his brother's cheek, considering him as he would any of his compositions.

"Niklaus, wha-"

Elijah's words are swallowed when Klaus presses his lips against his. His brother hums in surprise, but doesn't pull away. Instead, he meets Klaus' lips eagerly, his mouth opening. 

When Elijah reaches for him, though, Klaus snatches his wrist and holds it in place.

When he finally breaks away, they are both breathing heavily, and Elijah's dark eyes shine with desire. His hair is tousled, and his lips are slightly swollen.

There.

Klaus straightens, glaring at Elijah to keep still.

With a quick stride, he returns to the easel, turning to see the effect on his muse. 

"Was that truly necessary, Brother?" Elijah says hoarsely. 

Klaus smirks at his dazed expression. 

"They say pain enhances the art."

"Pain of the artist, and not the subject, surely."

"Stop talking."

Klaus continues painting, letting the image come to life on the canvas. Soon, too soon, he has done as much as he can in the dim light of the morning sun. He must set the painting aside and wait, lest he ruins it.

He is not willing to stop, so he grabs another canvas and puts it on the easel. 

A new painting requires a new composition, so he rearranges his muse, unbuttoning Elijah's shirt and removing his outer jacket. He trails kisses over Elijah's jaw and neck, letting his own hands wander while he forces Elijah to keep still, positioning him exactly to his own liking.

He paints faster this time, and the next time, capturing his brother in his increasingly disheveled state, until, after the third painting, Elijah growls against his throat in frustration, his teeth scraping across his skin.

Klaus can feel his brother's hardness against his hand as he moves to remove his trousers and underpants, and his own groin stirs in response.

"Patience," he murmurs, as much to himself as to Elijah.

Elijah groans, but throws his head back, as always indulging him in his quirks. He is fully naked now, and lies sprawled across the full length of the couch, half hard, with beads of sweat glimmering on his skin. 

Klaus sketches his full body this time, paying special attention to the curve of his hips, the way his hand rests on his brow, the muscles rippling under his skin as he breathes.

When he puts down the final stroke, his pants are uncomfortably tight, and he has to stop himself from ripping them off.

"Done," he declares. Elijah raises his head, genuinely curious. When he moves upright, though, Klaus flashes towards him.

"Did I tell you you could move?" he snarls, pushing him back down.

His clothes grate against his brother's bare skin and Elijah takes in a sharp breath, his pupils blown wide. 

"Then don't take so long," he still manages to rasp. 

That would not do.

Klaus leans over him, supporting himself on the backrest of the couch, first capturing his brother's lips with his own before trailing further down his throat and to his chest. Elijah's body arches up to meet him, and his fingers intertwine in Klaus' hair.

Klaus allows it, but nothing more. He wants to draw this out, savoring his brother's taste as long as possible.

When he finally reaches Elijah's cock, it is fully hard. He trails his tongue over the base, and Elijah moans deeply.

"Niklaus..." he pleads, pushing up his hips suggestively.

Klaus raises his head and smirks. Elijah's chest is rising and falling rapidly, and Klaus can hear his heart hammering. 

"Sit up," he orders. Elijah immediately complies, leaning against the backrest, his legs spread to give Klaus better access.

Klaus kneels down in front of him and runs his tongue over the tip of Elijah's cock. Then, without warning, he takes the full length in his mouth.

Elijah inhales sharply, fingers once more buried in Klaus' hair. The slight sting as he pulls on the strands send shivers of pleasure down Klaus' spine, and a growl rumbles in his throat as he starts sucking slowly, moving his mouth up and down Elijah's shaft.

Elijah's hips tremble as Klaus holds him steady, and soon they are moving in sync, Elijah raising his hips to meet Klaus' mouth.

Klaus increases his pace, and Elijah's breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps, until finally all of his muscles tense at once. He shudders beneath Klaus' hands as he comes, meeting Klaus' mouth a few more times before he sags back on the couch. 

Klaus swallows quickly and wipes of his mouth with his sleeve. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it unceremoniously to the ground, where Elijah's clothes lie discarded in a slightly neater heap. 

He trails his fingers over his brother's chest.

"Bed?" Klaus suggest.

Elijah nods sluggishly, and with a grin, Klaus pulls him to his feet and drags him to his room, where they both collapse unceremoniously on the mattress.

"Do you think our sister is having as much fun as we?" Klaus drawls. Elijah glares at him reproachfully and Klaus grin widens even further.

"You're incorrigible," Elijah mumbles, still recovering from Klaus' work earlier. Then his lips curl up, and a hint of mischief lights up in his eyes. 

"And overdressed."

Klaus agrees. His own desires have been left unattended for far too long. 

Elijah helps him slip out of his trousers, and soon they are pressed together again.

Klaus lies back as Elijah roams his tongue expertly over his skin, around his nipples and down his chest, slowly taking his time. Klaus endures it impatiently, restless energy crawling beneath his skin, kindled by each of Elijah's touches. 

When Elijah's hand finally moves down towards Klaus' cock, though, he tenses. Abruptly, he flips them both over, ensuring that he is back on top.

Elijah frowns, but Klaus doesn't give him time to dwell on it. He captures Elijah's mouth with his own and grinds his hips down. Elijah hisses, but Klaus does not care that he must still be sensitive.

He scratches his nails into Elijah's skin as he pulls him close. But the red marks heal almost immediately, leaving his brother's perfect body unmarred. 

With a frustrated snarl, Klaus lets his fangs extend. He bites down, over and over again, until even Elijah's healing rate is unable to keep up with the desperate need with which Klaus applies his marks. 

_His._ Elijah is _his_ , and he has to...

"Niklaus." 

Elijah's warning penetrates Klaus' hazy desire, and spike of fear runs through him as he realizes what he has done. Did he go too far?

But there is no anger on his brother's face, no revulsion. 

"Niklaus," he says again, his tone assertive. 

"Fuck me."

Klaus' breath catches in his throat, and for a second he can only stare.

Then a growl escapes his throat, all restraint gone. He slams Elijah down against the bed, not waiting for permission twice. Elijah opens his legs invitingly, and Klaus trails one hand down his abdomen while the other finds its way to Elijah's mouth.

Elijah sucks on his fingers obligingly, and when they are sufficiently wet, Klaus pushes the first of his fingers inside, almost immediately followed by a second one.

Elijah groans, and trembles fiercely as Klaus spreads them, stretching him open. 

He pulls his fingers out and aligns the head of his own cock against Elijah's entrance.

"Please," Elijah whimpers, and Klaus pushes forward.

Elijah is tight around him, and Klaus nearly comes from the entry alone. Gasping, his head light, Klaus leans down to catch his breath, kissing his brother again as they both adjust to the new position.

Then Klaus starts moving, the desire, the need overriding everything else. He moans loudly as he increases his pace, claiming his brother with each thrust. Elijah has his head thrown back, his mouth open, whispering Klaus' name and encouragements in a hoarse voice.

Klaus gladly obliges.

They come together in a blinding haze, and for a moment, Klaus loses all his bearings as he rides the wave of pleasure, hips moving frantically to draw it out as long as possible.

When he is finally spend, he sinks down, resting his forehead on his brother's shoulder. They are still intertwined, Klaus still inside Elijah, and Klaus wonders vaguely if anyone seeing them would be able to discern where either of them ended and the other began.

After a while, Elijah stirs beneath him, and presses a kiss against his head.

"Move, little brother," he whispers gently.

Klaus huffs and rolls off of him, shivering when the cold air touches his sensitive skin. He tracks Elijah as his brother flashes to the bathroom and returns with a wet towel, far more active than he has any right of being.

With soft movements, Elijah cleans them both, careful not to linger too long on Klaus' sensitive cock. He pulls the dirtied sheets of the bed next, but when he starts to gather them, Klaus sits up and grabs his wrist.

"Later," he orders.

Conceding, Elijah settles back on the bed. Klaus drapes his arm over his chest and rests his head on his brother's shoulder, not yet ready to let him go. He exhales deeply, the tension which has plagued him since Rebekah left finally dissipating.

"She still loves you, Niklaus," Elijah says softly, again proving his annoying ability to read Klaus' mind. His thumb is drawing small circles on the back of Klaus' neck, and Klaus finds his eyes drifting close.

"As do I."

Klaus should answer his brother, repeat the words back to him, but he is unable to. Those three words, so simple and yet so grand, do not do justice to all that Elijah and Rebekah are to him.

Luckily, Elijah does not expect him to, and instead pulls Klaus tighter against him. 

As Klaus listens as his brother drifts off to sleep, his steady heartbeat beneath Klaus' ear, he allows himself to believe that maybe, they have finally found their home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
